


why'd you only call me when you're high?

by orphan_account



Category: MCU Actors
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Marijuana, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Tom Eats You Out To Score Weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 09:25:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17118719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “What, they smoke the last bowl without you, Tommy?” You tease.“Mm, I love it when you call me that, babygirl. And they did, actually,” He says, and you go to laugh, but the next words he says has you stopping. “But that’s not the only reason I want to see you.”The low tone of his voice, slow and languid, has you imagining his tongue moving to wet his lips, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he convinces you over and over again to lose just one more hour of sleep. You have things to do in the morning, and you know this is a bad idea, but...“You taste so much better than cheap beer, baby... I’ll be round in five, yeah?”





	why'd you only call me when you're high?

Your phone is ringing.

  
It’s vibrating across the bedside dresser, the harsh buzz more irritating than the ring-tone itself, so you reach out and swipe your thumb across the screen to answer it without even looking to see who it is.

You press the phone up to your ear, and you sigh when you realise who it is.

The slightly slurred British accent comes through the phone clearly, despite the loud noise booming in the background.  _“Hi, pretty girl. You answered quick.”_

You groan, letting your head fall back against the pillow.  _“Tom. It’s 2am. You sure you can’t wait till tomorrow to ring?”_

_“And miss out on hearing your voice when it’s all deep and tired? It’s like you don’t know me at all, love.”_ He says, and you can just imagine the look on his face as he’s speaking.

You know he’s only down the hall, drinking out of plastic cups and getting high with the windows open in someone’s bedroom, but he seems in a whole other world. A world where you both don’t have classes the next day and the music booming from the speakers around him aren’t pissing off everyone in the apartment building.

_“I was actually calling to see if you wanted some company.”_ He drawls, bringing your thoughts back to the current conversation.  


Oh, God, this again.  


 

You’re an idiot, but you know his tongue does much better than tease with words, so you nod into the phone, stretch your legs out under the duvet and wait for the knock on your door.

_“What, they smoke the last bowl without you, Tommy?”_ You tease.  


_“Mm, I love it when you call me that, babygirl. And they did, actually,”_  He says, and you go to laugh, but the next words he says has you stopping.  _“But that’s not the only reason I want to see you.”_  


The low tone of his voice, slow and languid, has you imagining his tongue moving to wet his lips, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he convinces you over and over again to lose just one more hour of sleep. You have things to do in the morning, and you know this is a bad idea, but...

_“You taste so much better than cheap beer, baby... I’ll be round in five, yeah?”_

It takes him less than five minutes. You think it’s probably because he knows how eager you get around him, how quickly you fall apart underneath him, and something to do with the stash you keep in your bottom drawer he always works his way into after you’re done, sweaty and sex-high.

Tom looks like a right mess when you open the door. He stinks of secondhand smoke, beer and deodorant, and his fringe is in strands in front of his face. He’s swaying a little, so he reaches out for the doorframe to steady himself.  


“Barely had to knock and you opening up for me, darling” He says, grin spreading across his face.  


You roll your eyes and open the door wider to let him in. Once the door is shut it takes all of two second for his lips to latch onto the side of your neck, lips and tongue working against the sensitive skin there. You let out a surprised squeal and try to turn around to face him, but his hands are already on your hips, sliding up to your waist, thick fingers digging into your sides in a way that would tickle if it didn’t send a different kind of thrill through you.

The alcohol buzzing in his system sways you both due to the tight grip he has on you, holding your body close to his chest, teeth scraping lower until they bite into your collarbone, the pinch of pain only stirring up the faint arousal that started to build the moment he had his hands on you.

He steps back, but trips on something you’ve left laying around on the floor and suddenly you’re both toppling back, falling ungracefully onto your messy bed.

He lands on top of you, hair tousled in front of his face and eyes dark in the low light of the room - you’d switched the side table lamp on but the main light was still switched off, giving everything a titled shadow and yellow glow. The light moves across Tom’s face as his features turn up into a grin.

You know that look. You’ve seen it so many nights before. One of his hands comes up to brush a strand of hair back from your face, fingers rough against the soft skin of your cheek, so you begin to reach to your bedside table for the box of condoms.

Tom’s fingers close around your wrist and bring it up beside your head, the same hand used as leverage to prop himself up.  


You tilt your head to the side at your pinned hand, confused. “Um, Tommy?”

You feel fingers at your waist, playing with the cords of your sweatpants, dipping lower until they slip under the elastic.

“I don’t think we’ll be needing those, pretty girl. I did say I wanted to taste you, didn’t I?” He says, voice low, “I intend on doing just that.”  


His voice sends a thrill through you that hits right at your core, your excitement building into something tangible.

Tom’s fingers release your wrist and he sits up, albeit a little wobbly, to work himself between your legs, sliding his hand under and heaving one thigh up until your knee is bent so he can tug at the fabric of your sweats. You lift your hips up to help the same time he leans forward, teeth hitting your lips in a messy kiss, tongue licking at your lips until you give and open your mouth, letting him in deeper as his hands work at your body.

Even uncoordinated he’s managed to pull both your sweats and underwear down in one go, tugging at them until they’re completely off your legs, and you’re lying under him, half naked where he’s fully clothed. He pulls back, lips wet from your mixed saliva, and his eyes wander down, a hungry look passing over his face.

“Tommy?” You ask, suddenly a little nervous at being exposed underneath the fully-clothed boy.  


Tom runs his hands up your thighs, “Relax, darling,” his head dips down to kiss at your stomach, pushing your shirt up to your midriff, “I’m gonna make you feel good, yeah?” He says, and then his head is dipping lower, nose brushing at your navel as he goes down.

The first stripe he licks through your folds is slightly misplaced, but the shock of it has you bucking up into his face, and his hands come up to grip at your hips to keep you in place.

His tongue darts out again, searching for the sensitive spot he absolutely loves to tease. His lips are thin, but fuck, he uses them, working them against your core like he’s actually  _hungry_ for you, and  _fuck_ \- you feel a jolt run through you, clamping your thighs together on instinct. His tongue is right there, the poking against your clit, and you can’t help but whine at the feeling. He lets out a satisfied groan  _(always so bloody pleased with himself)_  and you can feel him smile into you, lips mouthing at your own.

You reach your hand down, carding your fingers through his hair and tugging, trying to hold him in place. 

He’s thorough, working his tongue against your clit until you’re practically clenching his head between your thighs, dipping into your core and dragging his tongue up in broad strokes. It’s incredible, but it’s not enough for you to come yet. You try to move him, hands working in his hair. You need just a little more, if he would just-

"Tom, please, please use your fingers or something, c’mon- ah! Oh,  _fuck,_ ” you cut yourself off with a curse as Tom’s lips wrap around your clit and he  _sucks._ “Tommy, please-  _please,_  I’m close,”

Your fingers twist in his hair, pulling till it’s probably painful, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t move his fingers from your hips. Instead, he sucks harder, head moving up and down, lips and tongue dragging against your core at a pace that has you bucking up into him. He lets you, pulling his hands under your back to get closer to you, the little groans he lets out vibrating against your folds and you’re so so close, the coil in your gut twisting tighter under his tongue.

His fingers dig into your hip at the same time as his tongue swirls around your clit in just the right way, once, twice, and fuck- you’re coming, body freezing up as your orgasm rips through you, the buzz slowly subsiding into your limbs until you’re like jelly.

Your legs relax against Tom’s head and he stops, pulling away to grin at you, his lips and nose and chin shiny in a way that’s both hot and gross at the same time. He leans forward to kiss you but you turn your head to the side, smacking him on the arm.  


“I don’t think so, Tom!” You manage, though your throat is dry from how hard you’ve been breathing.  


He laughs at you, leaning down to wipe his face with your shirt so he can peck a small kiss at your forehead.

He’s cute like this, dopey and faded. Maybe its just the post-orgasm haze, but he’s...cute, he really is. He might be different this time.  


“So,” He says, swinging his feet over the mattress so he’s sitting on the side of the bed. “Do you reckon I could smoke a bowl before I go? The lads had the rest of mine, so...”  


He grins at his own words, as if he knows you know he was going to ask it. You can’t even bring yourself to be mad. Instead, you just giggle, your brain kicking back online enough for you to find your underwear at the end of the bed and pull them on.

Tom pulls the drawer open and reaches for the makeup bag you keep your pouch in, his own pipe leftover in the bag from the last time he was here (he’d said you could keep it, that he had a new one, but you’d be lying if you didn’t think it was special to have it here).

You relax back onto the pillows as he lights up, murmuring at him to at least open a window, and let your eyes close as the smell of your own (quite expensive) weed fills the room.  


You know you’ll have to buy more by next week with the small amount you have left, and the amount he likes to smoke when he’s over.

No doubt you’ll get a call next week at 2am, accent thick and slurred as he asks what you’re up to. Again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this comment on a Tom Holland pic:  
> "This photo just called me at 1am, ate me out and smoked all my weed"


End file.
